The sound of a chainsaw broke the silence this morning and as I glanced out of my kitchen window I noticed the branches falling from a tree, eventually the tree was removed followed by another and another. I have no idea why these trees were being cut down, I can’t see any reason why they had to be removed. However my response was to write this short poem.
Those Beautiful Trees
Filled with sadness as the trees fall,
Now I have a view of a rooftop wall.
Where will the birds nest when they return?
I guess the tree surgeon doesn’t share my concern.
When the sun doesn’t shine and the sky is all grey,
There’ll be no branches of green to colour the day.
No blossom will grow at the arrival of Spring,
And fewer birds will be heard when they all start to sing.
No rustling branches dancing in the breeze,
Oh how I will miss those beautiful trees.